


fuck me like you mean it

by kurooos



Series: nsfw promptis week 2018 [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Prompto Argentum, Crying, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Power Dynamics, Restraints, Rough Sex, Top Noctis Lucis Caelum, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 07:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16081541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurooos/pseuds/kurooos
Summary: They're sitting in the hotel playing King's Knight alone when Noctis says to him, “Do you ever imagine me just holding you down and fucking you into the mattress?” without even looking up from his phone.Prompto almost drops his phone onto his nose.





	fuck me like you mean it

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6: Power Play || ~~Innocent~~ Prompto/Noct being wrecked by Noct/Prompto || “Do you ever imagine me just holding you down and fucking you into the mattress?”

When Prompto first joined Noctis on his journey to Altissia, it felt like a dream. Sitting in the Regalia, taking pictures of the landscape around them, Ignis tugging the back of his pants when he’d turn around in the seat to show Gladio or Noctis a good picture. Stopping for food at a run down gas station off the road. It all felt like a happy dream, too good to be true.

Maybe it was a dream, still is a dream. That’s the only explanation he can think of when Noctis says to him, “Do you ever imagine me just holding you down and fucking you into the mattress?” without even looking up from his phone.

They’re sitting in the hotel at Lestallum alone because Ignis and Gladio out getting supplies and groceries and general stock items they’ve run low on. Prompto has made himself comfortable lounging on his back on one of the beds, playing King’s Knight with Noctis who is only seated a few feet away at the breakfast table in the corner of the room.

Prompto’s fingers just about drop his phone onto his nose but he fumbles it in time to catch it. He can feel heat rise up on his face, creeping off slowly in his gut.

“What?” He squeaks out, staring at Noctis like he’s got two heads suddenly. Noctis spares him a glance, barely flushed, then looks back to his phone with a half shrug.

“Sorry, forget about it. I was just thinking out loud.”

It’s obvious that Noctis is embarrassed. Prompto’s always been good at reading his emotions and figuring out what he really feels behind contradicting words and passive faces. But here, Prompto's drawing blanks.

Prompto sits up in bed, phone placed next to him. He folds his feet under himself, thumbs rubbing his ankles for comfort, something to fidget with as he looks at Noctis. His palms are sweaty and his heart is pounding. Fuck, he’s already excited, half hard thinking about just the idea of Noctis-

He tries to calm down, to rub off his sweaty palms, hold still and not fidget, to not lick or bite his lips. He’s more excited to know that Noctis even thinks about him that way. Prompto’s been having crazy filthy fantasies about Noctis since they started hanging out in high school.

Knowing that he wasn’t supposed to have those kinds of thoughts about the _Prince of Lucis_ made it all the better, and Prompto’s raging, hormonal libido ran with any idea it could. Most of which ended up with lots of hands and mouths and dicks and Noctis.

He knows that just talking it through will end up awkward and confusing so he clears his throat and says, “okay.”

Noctis glances at him again, raises an eyebrow and repeats, “Okay?”

Prompto only nods, kicking his pants off, fingers hooking in his socks and throwing them at Noctis. The flimsy things barely make it halfway before nose diving to the floor.

Prompto’s heart is in his throat and if Noctis turns him down now, he’s sure the only good thing to do would be to run straight out and jump the Lestallum cliffs for his stupidity and eagerness. Noctis just keeps _staring_ at him.

“What are you waiting on. Come on, if we’re gonna, we have to be quick. I dunno when Gladio and Iggy are gonna show back up.”

“Are you being serious?”

Prompto hesitates before he takes his shirt off. He thinks about it for a moment and frowns.

“Would you really think I’d get naked just to prank you?”

Noctis finally smiles, the first small one since they’ve started talking about this. His head tips a little to the side and Prompto wants to brush away his bangs when they come close to his eyes, stopped only by dark eyelashes. Six above, he’s pretty.

“You’ve done more serious things for a lot less, especially to get good pictures.”

Prompto finally pulls his shirt off and balls it up. He makes a valiant effort to throw the shirt ball across the room. Noctis catches it before it can land on his head.

“Getting a good shot is an art form that few are able to achieve. It’s why I’m Vyv’s favorite.”

Prompto fakes brushing long hair from his shoulder; he rests back on his hands, lounging, torso stretched out in a way he hopes looks enticing. From the way Noctis’ eyes noticeably trail down, down, _down_ , it’s working. Even though a self conscious part of him wants to cover up from the eyes, he holds still and waits until Noctis is looking at his lap before parting his crossed knees.

Noctis mutters a grumbled curse before putting his phone down on the table. Prompto’s heart flutters when he stands. When Noctis gets to the edge of the bed he reaches out and pulls Prompto’s bottom lip from his teeth with a dark look.

“You and your fucking oral fixation, _gods_ ,” and then climbs into Prompto’s lap to kiss him. Prompto laughs at first.

He can’t help it because Noctis looks and sounds like Prompto’s unconscious habit to nervously chew on objects and his own person seems to be a personal attack. It’s also half hysterics; he can’t believe that Noctis is actually kissing him.

Right as Prompto decides to stop internally freaking out and start participating in this whole, _awesome_ kissing thing, Noctis moves away. Without really thinking about it Prompto whines at the loss, and then whines again when Noctis’ mouth fits over the side of his neck. It’s hot and slick and makes his eyes roll when Noctis sucks a little, teeth scraping when he trails down.

“Sound so fucking hot, Prom,” Noctis says low and doesn't stay up too long to leave Prompto’s skin to get cold. He goes over his collarbones, leaves little kisses at each of his shoulders, then to the center of his chest.

For a moment he feels the breath in his chest catch. He’s been here in one of his fantasies; okay so many of them, but this, _this_ is real.

He can see the way Noctis’ hands make their way slow up his waist, long fingers making sure to go over every inch of skin his hands can span. They move slow, steady enough for Prompto’s skin to soak the heat from Noctis’ palms on their trek.

In his fantasies, typically they aren’t as clothed as they are, and they definitely are not on a ratty full in a hotel. (Indulgences leave him to think about oversized king mattresses in the Citadel that are piled with soft blankets and down pillows.)

But this suffices. Prompto doesn’t care that Noctis is still dressed, all that matters is that he’s halfway there. All Prompto has to go through is the thin black tee shirt and the black jeans.

Their mouths meet again, at Prompto’s insistence, and it all gets sort of blurry there. He somehow manages to get Noctis naked (hooray!) and pull lube and condoms out from the aether of the armiger. They jeer back and forth about storing lube in the _royal_ armiger until Prompto does a crappy impression of a disappointed Ignis and just about kills the mood.

Noctis kisses him again, tongue all but shoved into his mouth until Prompto is pushing on his chest to get air.

“ _Okay_! Okay, I won’t-” Noctis curls a slick finger inside and Prompto’s giggling protests fall away to a gasp. His fingers dig into Noctis’ shoulders and he can’t even enjoy looking into Noctis’ smug face because his head drops to the rumpled sheets and his eyes squeeze shut.

Noctis works in a second finger and sits back to watch his fingers spread the muscle, come together and twist before spreading again. It feels like Noctis is purposefully going slow, trying to make sure he touches every smooth inch inside and press and rub to map out what place brings out which sounds. Prompto’s breath comes quicker and to his disappointment, Noctis’ fingers don’t. They keep pace, mind numbingly slow and gentle until Prompto can’t hold back anymore.

His sob comes with a drool of precum under his navel, smearing when he tries to turn on his side and get away. Noctis suddenly pushes his arm across his hips, body angling over his legs to hold the blonde down as he crooks his fingers up against Prompto’s prostate.

“Right here?” He asks, breath falling over Prompto’s chest. He presses harder when Prompto’s mouth falls open and his moan stutters. He can’t. He can’t take it anymore, he _can’t_.

“You can. You will.” Noctis whispers, kisses pressed to the flat of his chest, curling into a smirk when he feels his lungs lift hard on another sob. Prompto’s hands can’t wiggle between them and fight Noctis off, not with Noctis’ shoulders in the way. He’s purposefully guarding and Prompto wants to rip his own hair out.

He can’t squirm away, and his hips don't go where he wants them to, His cock is left alone and dripping and Noctis’ fingers never give that little bundle of sensitive nerves a break longer than a long exhale.

“I’m going to die-” he chokes out, high pitched and worried, riding a whine as Noctis’ fingers twist and his knuckles sweep over sensitive nerves.

Distantly, he’s aware of Noctis chuckling at him, and telling him he’s being dramatic, but Prompto disagrees. Ignis and Gladio are going to have one less dumbass to look over because they’ll have to leave him here. Even if he doesn’t die, he’ll be completely useless because his legs will never work again after this.

Prompto falls deeper and deeper in his own head, pushed under the pleasure hazy and hot until it’s one hard taut string and threatening to snap with fraying ends. It’s getting harder to breathe now.

Noctis’ fingers press in a bit harder when he rocks his wrist, the firm base of his knuckles stopping the rest of his hand slipping inside but it feels hard enough that all Noctis would need to do is fold his other fingers in and-

The string snaps and Prompto chokes. Every muscle tenses in response before it curls up in his stomach and thighs. His fingers ache as he holds onto the pillow under him and the sheets beside himself, spilling out on his hips in hard, jerking spurts.

“ _Gods, Prompto_ -” Noctis sighs, keeping his wrist rolling back and forth to keep the pressure grinding, even though his hand is sore.

Prompto looks beautiful like this, flushed and open for him. Sweat has gathered between the scrunch of his eyebrows, his blush has run splotchy and spread over the tops of his shoulders and front of his chest, his lips bitten and wet and blanching when Prompto bites on his plump bottom lip again before letting go with a sigh.

The rest of his body follows the release, muscles unwinding and his body settling into the bed again. When he opens his eyes he still looks a little dopey, blue eyes dark and glossy, crinkling when he smiles at Noctis. It almost makes the prince want to snuggle up into Prompto’s space and fall asleep with him, but he’s not done with him yet.

“Good?” he asks, sitting back as Prompto nods slowly, sleepy. Noctis can’t help but smile back, lube slick fingers making a mess on Prompto’s inner thigh when he parts them to get where he needs to be. He bumps the head of his cock against Prompto’s hole, loose and slick.

“Still haven’t held you down and fucked you into the mattress yet,” he says, waiting for Prompto to really grasp onto what he means and what’s coming.

Prompto’s head tips back, then comes back up slow when he raises onto his elbows to look between them at Noctis’ cock. He bites at his bottom lip again and Noctis has to hold himself back from shoving in.

“I don’t think I can take anymore,” Prompto admits with a nervous chuckle, eyes sheepishly meeting Noctis’, “but I kind of want it anyway.”

“Good,” Noctis leans forward, going and going, pushing against resistance and holding Prompto’s hips still until his balls are mashed up on the swell of Prompto’s pert ass, “I don’t think I’d be able to stop from taking you anyway.” He groans against Prompto’s ear.

It’s awfully rewarding to feel Prompto shiver at that, something that makes the liquid heat his in veins curl comfortably, _possessive_. It’s even better when Prompto moans like he’s totally fucked. He is, literally.

“ _Ah!_ Shit- Noct-” Prompto yelps when Noctis just starts hard and fast. He gives a few mean thrusts before swooping down.

His arm hooks under a knee and tilts Prompto’s hips at an awkward sideways angle. His other hand grabs Prompto’s close wrist and presses it into the pillows over his head. At the half sideways tilt Prompto’s weight becomes his own restraint, pinning his shoulder to the mattress and only allowing his free hand to wave a few inches side to side, bunch up the sheets and pull, useless.

Even still, Prompto isn’t making a valiant effort to protest or stop him. All his protests are breathless, “no”s and “wait”s that get lost in his whining and moans. Prompto makes a hiccuped noise before turning his face against the pillow, cock twitching on his hip.

It jerks softly with every thrust, already back to drooling and leaking pre, adding to the mess of white. Noctis makes sure Prompto can’t roll all the way over and smear the cum on his chest. He’d managed to get a stripe over his own nipple and Noctis finds that he wants to see Prompto covered with cum. Another time, he supposes.

Right now, all he wants to do is fuck Prompto until he’s out of breath and screaming. He’s almost there anyway, Prompto’s teary eyed tightening up around his cock every time he draws back out. Their skin slapping with each thrust breaks up their quiet panting and noises, both out of sync until Noctis’ thighs burn and he has to slow down.

“I’m gonna cum,” Prompto gasps, suddenly trying to pulls his wrist free from Noctis’ fingers. He says it again, higher this time when Noctis goes harder. The tingle in his toes creeps up on him, crawls up the back of his burning calves and around his hips until he can feel his balls draw up close to his body.

“Noct, _please_ ,” he moans, “I’m gonna cum!” It’s a warning, a plea to slow down, a desperate attempt to make Noctis stop him.

But there’s no end in sight. Noctis powers through and leans on Prompto until the bend of his back burns and his hip starts to ache. The mattress under them squeaks a little with the weight fixing on the springs. The headboard starts to bump into the wall in a soft, steady thump.

It’s game over then, Prompto finds Noctis incessantly shoving him towards the edge and then mercilessly over it. Prompto screams.

A shiver wracks through Noctis when Prompto quivers around him and he’d wanted to try and fuck Prompto up into one more orgasm but he’s quickly following and emptying inside of the blonde. His hips roll slow, finally slowing down as the hot tension in his gut uncoils.

It feels like the night passes while they come down.

When Noctis can finally hear his own breathing in the room and feel his fingertips, he backs away. The hand on Prompto’s wrist moves to pull Prompto’s cheeks apart and Noctis watches his cock slide free, quickly being chased with his cum. _Astrals that’s hot_.

Laughter startles him out of his reverie and he looks up at Prompto, who’s now waving the sleeve of condoms over his chest. He looks absolutely smitten.

“So much for these, huh?”

Oh. Fuck. Right.

“Sorry,” Noctis mumbles, trying to make it sound convincing when he’s really not sorry at all. It’s worth it, having to deal with the mess if he gets to watch the slow drip of his cum from Prompto. The foil strip slaps down onto Noctis’ bare shoulder and Prompto’s other leg closes to hide away the sight.

“Dude, quit looking at me like that, it’s embarrassing.”

“You’re really hot, Prom, seriously.”

It earns him a groan and Prompto rolls over like he’s about to get out of bed. He catches him by the elbow and then tightens when he sees the red mark on Prompto’s other wrist. It’s a perfect imprint of his hand, it’ll no doubt form a bruise on Prompto’s pale skin.

“Shit.” He mumbles, reaching out to take his fingers delicately. Prompto finally looks down to see what’s wrong and then blushes up pink again.

“Oh.”

“I’m so-”

“No, no. Don’t apologize.” Prompto looks down at the red mark.

It’s a contrasting brand compared to the one hidden under his leather bracelet on the other wrist. In a moment of weakness he checks to make sure it didn’t get moved when they were busy immersed in each other, and sighs in relief to see it’s still covering the black lines and diamonds.

“I like it.” He mumbles, saying it again to make sure Noctis hears him and then pulls on his hand. Noctis still looks like he’s building up a whole apology speech, making plans about how he’s going to right the situation that Prompto doesn’t want righting.

“If you really feel bad about it you can make it up to me in the shower.” he jokes, trying to get the subject changed. The bait works and Noctis smiles, leaning in to kiss Prompto’s shoulder.

“You might regret that.”

Prompto laughs, finally standing on weak legs. He wants to immediately sit back down with the wobbly threat of his knees and hips throbbing, but tugs on Noctis to stand too. He’s lost track of time, and the window on the far wall is dark. They’d been in bed longer than he thought. They need to get changed and cleaned up before Ignis and Gladio come back.

“We’ll see.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this! Thanks for reading lovelies!!


End file.
